I Know Enough
by clocks-and-cages
Summary: In which Chat reveals that he's afraid of thunderstorms and Marinette offers comfort. Marichat. Pure fluff. Oneshot.
Just a little oneshot I threw together while working on Paper Faces and Legends. I've had this idea for a while now, but it took a surprisingly long time to write. Hope you guys enjoy!

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Marinette woke up tangled in her sheets, one pajama pant leg shoved up past her knee, to the sound of rain, thunder, and a tapping on the hatch that led to her balcony.

She felt a moment of sleepy confusion, then a jolt of ice cold fear. The digital clock by her bed announced that it was well past midnight. Marinette had seen the shows and read the books - anyone tapping on a window, door, or hatch during a thunderstorm at night was most likely an axe murderer. She sat up slowly in her bed and clutched her blanket up to her chest, eyes wide as she stared at the hatch and prayed the sound wouldn't repeat itself.

It didn't. Instead, the hatch opened.

A scream rose in Marinette's throat, then quickly lodged itself there when she recognized a pair green eyes that were bright even in the darkness. She'd know those eyes anywhere. Her shoulders sagged with relief that was so intense it almost covered the spike of annoyance.

Almost.

"Chat?" she hissed, dropping her blanket and swinging her legs over the side of her bed. The rain had brought cooler air with it, and her teeth chattered as she stood up and wrapped her arms about her. "What do you think you're doing? You scared me half to death."

"Sorry, princess." He dropped easily from the hatch and landed silently with his cat-like grace that was almost unnerving.

He shot her a slightly crooked smile to add to his apology, a flash of white in the darkness. She started to narrow her eyes at him, then noticed the way his hair was so wet it was plastered to his face and neck. He left a puddle where he stood. Her resolve faltered and she heaved a sigh, shoulders sagging. The lecture she'd been about to give died on her tongue. Instead she turned, gesturing for him to follow her. "Let's get you dried off, kitty."

His voice held mild surprise. "No questions?"

She glared back at him as she opened her bathroom door, ushering him inside. "Those will come later, I promise."

Flipping on a light and squinting against its brightness, she tossed a towel in his general direction and waved him toward the bathtub. Even just closing her eyes enough to block out the light reminded her of how late it was and what a long day she'd had. While he patted his head dry she drooped against the sink, rubbing her palms into her face.

Another crack of thunder echoed through Paris, making her jolt. She leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of lightning through her far window, but the world outside was dark as ever. Turning back to Chat, Marinette was surprised to find he was looking at her in a way that was almost cautious. She raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Aren't you going to ask me questions now?" He paused, then seemed to think of something even more alarming. "Or yell at me?"

She'd been planning on it, but a part of her knew she could never yell at Chat. He was her partner. Running a hand over her face again, she sighed. "I'm not going to yell at you. I have a strict no-yelling-past-midnight policy."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky, then." He tried for a smile but it was halfhearted, making her frown.

"Come on. Let's go back to my room. You can't possibly be comfortable in there."

He followed her obediently and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room until she dragged over her swivel chair, flicked on a lamp, then collapsed onto her bed. She didn't bother looking at him, instead tracing patterns on her ceiling. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"You're not yelling, so it must be past mid-"

He was cut off by another bark of thunder, his voice tapering off with a squeak. She glanced over at him then and noticed he looked considerably pale. His hands were shaking. That alone was enough to make her expression soften. Marinette reached out and tangled her fingers with his to steady them, meeting that bright green gaze carefully. "What's wrong?"

"It's stupid." Chat looked away quickly and pulled his hand back, his ears drooping.

"Try me."

He hesitated for a moment, and Marinette was startled to see a hint of color on his cheeks. "I'm... I'm scared of thunderstorms," he mumbled at last.

She blinked at him, slowly sitting up. She almost asked if that was all, but the look on his face stopped her. Instead, she tried gentle teasing. "Figures. I should have known a cat like you would hate rain."

A hint of a smile brushed over his lips, and it was enough to give her hope. "I actually love rain," he corrected her. "It holds good memories. It's _thunder_ that I hate."

Another rumble, and his fingers twitched toward hers.

Her brow furrowed. "Why did you come _here?_ I'd think your family would be better suited to helping you than me."

Chat laughed humorlessly. "You would think that, wouldn't you?" He paused. She said nothing, and he went on a bit more cautiously. "My family isn't exactly _there_ for me, I guess. Not in the way I need it to be. And my room is huge but it's just so _empty_ , and I didn't - " he cut off when his voice cracked, then tried again. "I didn't know where else to go."

She tilted her head. "You hardly know me."

"You're kind and clever and generous." Her face flushed at his words. He raised his eyes to meet hers. "I know enough."

She felt somewhat overwhelmed by the compliments, her cheeks growing even more warm. It was easy enough to brush off what he said when she was Ladybug. Behind the mask she was strong, confident, powerful. Sitting before him, though, she was just Marinette. And yet, he still seemed to think there was something special to her.

Marinette dropped her gaze, trying to regain focus. How was she supposed to respond to that? Her mouth opened just as another loud bang pitched itself through the house. Chat jumped and Marinette flinched sympathetically. "What helps?"

He pressed his lips together, standing up as if preparing to pace and then abruptly sitting down again. "Not being alone."

She held in a groan, glancing at her clock again before pulling out her phone and scrolling through the weather. "The storm's supposed to last for another few hours." She paused, hesitated. "I have school tomorrow."

"So do I."

The easy thing would have been to tell him to go home so she could get him to sleep. The _comfortable_ thing would have been to gently nudge him toward other friends. But neither of those were the same as the right thing.

She sighed before resettling herself in her bed, pulling the covers up over herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chat's ears droop. When he spoke, his voice was somewhat removed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come. I'll - "

"Wait." She stopped him before he rose completely.

His brow furrowed as she raised up her covers, scooting over to the side. "Here. You can stay until the storm's over."

He looked at her as if she'd suggested the best way to stop the rain was to set himself on fire. "You mean... in your _bed?_ "

Her face flushed again. "Not like _that_ , stupid. Just sleeping. Having someone close."

He approached her tentatively, eyes wide. "Are you - you don't have to do this, Marinette."

She pulled the covers back farther. "I know."

Carefully, as if he was afraid she was so delicate she would shatter into pieces if he brushed against her or jostled the bed too much, he slipped under the covers next to her. He held himself stiff, eyes glued to the ceiling. She watched him for a moment before sighing and shifting into a more comfortable position. She supposed she couldn't force him to relax. Her eyes drifted shut and she nuzzled her head into her pillow, mumbling, "Wake me up if you need anything, 'kay? And make sure you leave before my parents get up in the morning."

Even though he made sure to keep as much distance between them as possible, she could feel his warmth under the blankets. It was surprisingly comfortable, and sleep came faster than she expected. The last thing she remembered before it swallowed her was the distant sound of thunder, a bright light against her eyelids, and the feeling of a bare hand reaching out to grasp hers.


End file.
